


A Worn Journal

by rosamynal



Series: Cacoethes Scribendi [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Blood Drinking, Diary/Journal, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Spoilers, Wyrsa is angy boi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-11-27 14:37:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosamynal/pseuds/rosamynal
Summary: The adventures of an overly curious Miqo'te and her Elezen friend, from the forests of Gridania to the very ends of the world.





	1. Entry 1

Happy nameday to me! 

Uncle gave me a journal this year since I kept asking him questions about his. It’s really nice! Bound in leather and ties closed. Said he bought it off a merchant when he was in Ul’dah and that it should be useful, considering we’re leaving Gridania for Limsa Lominsa in a few days. <strike>He seemed to imply that maybe if I keep a journal, I’ll be able to remember what</strike>

No. I won’t start my new journal with such thoughts. Positive things! New beginnings! 

Brother E-Sumi-Yan mentioned in passing that I had a firm enough basis in conjury that I could look into other disciplines. When I mentioned it to Uncle, he suggested submitting an application to the Arcanist’s Guild. I asked why since I heard they deal more in poisons and diseases. He replied by asking how better to understand how to heal than by understanding various afflictions. 

I see his point, but still… wow Uncle. Ahhhh Menphina help me why is he staring at me right now?! 

I did send in a letter, along with a recommendation from Brother E-Sumi-Yan. A week ago, their acceptance letter came in the post! So that’s why we’re leaving Gridania. Uncle said he’d of course accompany me on the trip. Something about not letting me travel across the continent on my own when I’ve rarely left the Black Shroud. <strike>But I must have, right? How else was I at</strike>

Stop doing that, Ro! 

\-----

It’s late. Don’t know what bell it is. Stepped out into the hall to write this since Uncle’s asleep in the room. 

I had that dream again. Still don’t know if it can be considered a dream if it’s only voices, but… Guess I should write it down. That’s what journals are for, right? 

There’s a man’s voice. He’s begging me to stay. To help “them”. Everything will be better if I stay. They need me. 

Another man speaks. It sounds like the same man, but I know it isn’t. He’s defending me. Says I shouldn’t be forced to do something against my will. 

The first man snaps at him, but I say that I need more time. I say that I know there’s a better way, but I need time to find it. 

The first man says he’s done everything he could to get me the time, but “they” are getting impatient. They need to take action. People are dying. 

Another man seems to barge in. He says a name, but I can never remember it. He demands that the first drag me to the meeting. The decision must be made today. The first refuses to force me. Something seems to happen and then I hear the first man yelling for the second to keep me safe. 

Then I wake up. 

I’ve told Uncle about these dreams. He seemed concerned the first time, but blamed it on something I ate before bed and said not to worry about it. The second time, he said I pushed myself too hard before going to sleep and that’s what caused the dream. After the third time, Uncle just assured me it was nothing, but something makes me think he knows more than he’s telling me.


	2. Vesper Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an experiment. The story will mainly be journal entries, but every now and then there will be a normal narrative like this chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

A hand gently ran through her dark blue hair, brushing her ears back, and scratching a spot just behind one of them that brought a sleepy smile to her face. A low voice rumbled in the chest below her head. 

“Wake up, little one. We’re here.” 

Rozha cracked open a silver eye. The black-haired Highlander smiled down at her, yellow eyes sweeping over her face as his large hand brushed through her long hair again. 

“I would ask if you slept well, but you seemed to be having a nightmare.” 

The Keeper of the Moon stretched and yawned, exposing her fangs. She nuzzled against the man’s side and brought her knees up to her chest, resting her feet on the crate they were sitting on. Rozha closed her eyes in an attempt to grasp whatever she could of her dream. 

“I think I did,” she mumbled, curling her tail around her ankles and glancing up at him. “All I can remember is a man wearing a hood and a red mask.” 

The Highlander’s soft smile stiffened; his yellow eyes just slightly narrowed. It passed before she could question him. 

“That sounds different from your normal dreams,” he murmured. “Let’s go, kitten. Time we got off the wagon.” 

She buried her face deeper into his ribs. 

“Five more minutes, Uncle,” she mumbled. 

“No, Ro,” he sighed and scratched behind her ear once again. “Now. You can sleep on the ferry to Limsa Lominsa.” 

The Miqo’te defiantly grabbed onto his shirt. The man loosed a sigh from the depths of his soul and stood up, pushing her out of his lap. She yelped and her eyes shot open, but he caught her in his arms. He hopped down from the back of the wagon as the Lalafellin merchant walked into sight. 

“I hope the ride wasn’t too rough, sir.” 

The Highlander chuckled as Rozha yawned again and tucked her tail up into her lap, resting her head against the man’s chest. 

“Judging by the little one here, it was just fine,” he said before carefully nudging her and set her down. “Let me hold up my end of the bargain.” 

“You’ve more than earned the ride, sir, after fighting off the bandits,” the man countered. 

“A deal is a deal. I won’t have it said that I shirked my end of one. Where do I unload everything?” 

“I’ll show you.” 

The Lalafell walked off in the direction of a warehouse. The Hyur turned to Rozha and handed her his coin purse before pointing towards the docks. 

“Go buy our tickets and board. The woman at the counter knows me and will set one aside for me if you ask her to. I’ll board the ferry once I’ve taken care of things here.” 

Rozha nodded and took the coin purse. 

The blue-skinned Miqo’te left the tunnel to enter Vesper Bay proper. She circled round the large statue in the middle of the central plaza and, once having found the sign pointing her in the right direction, continued to the docks. 

A long line drew her attention to the ticket counter. Her ears and tail drooped at the sight as she approached and noticed the line wrapped around the street corner. 

_Never gonna make it on this ferry,_ she sighed. _We’ll probably have to take the first one tomorrow morning. _

A voice drew her attention to the front of the line. A man wearing a dark green hooded robe and carrying a bag slung across his shoulders seemed to be arguing with the ticketer. Her ears perked up and the makings of a plan coalesced in her mind as she walked up to them—ignoring the glares from the people waiting in line. 

“You don’t understand, miss,” the man was saying. “I absolutely _must_ get a ticket.” 

“And what you don’t seem to understand, sir, is that I need to see your papers first,” came the stern reply from the Lalafell. 

“I’ve told you half a dozen times already: I do not _have_ papers.” 

“Then, as I’ve told you half a dozen and _one_ times, sir, you may not board.” 

The plan clicked into place and Rozha jumped forward, rapping her knuckles on the counter. and turning to the hooded man with a friendly smile. 

“Did you see this line? It was a good idea to send you ahead!” she smirked, indicating the line with her thumb. “So what’s the problem? Why haven’t you gotten the tickets yet?” 

The man raised his dark eyebrows and straightened up, towering as he studied her with golden eyes. Now that the short Miqo’te had a better view of the man’s face, she realized he was actually an Elezen. Her smile widened while his eyes narrowed and she turned to the ticketer. 

“Sorry, miss. My uncle thought to send his retainer ahead for the tickets. It seems he forgot to send word to _you_; our mistake.” 

The Lalafell stared at Rozha. 

“He was only trying to buy one ticket,” she said flatly. 

The Miqo’te bit back a groan and turned it into a gasp, ears darting up at the woman and then back as she spun to glare up at the Elezen. 

“Were you really only going to buy my ticket?” she demanded, drawing more attention to them. “You know perfectly well that Uncle wanted to accompany me to Limsa Lominsa! And of course _you_ were going to go if _he_ went!” 

The Elezen’s golden eyes slightly widened at the news. His lips rounded as he apparently caught on. 

“My apologies,” he said with a slight inclination of his head. “I must have misheard my… master.” 

Rozha smiled up at him and turned to the ticketer. 

“He’s a new hire,” she whispered by way of explanation before setting the coin purse on the counter. “Three tickets, please. My uncle would like you to hold his until he can stop by and pick it up.” 

“And who, exactly, is your uncle?” the woman asked, crossing her arms. 

Ears drooped and she offered a breathy laugh as she realized she had forgotten to ask her uncle which name he was known by in this area. The Miqo’te thought back in an attempt to recall the name he had given at their last inn. 

“Black,” she said hesitantly. “Mal Black. He’s a Highlander. Tall? Yellow eyes? Scruffy beard?” 

The ticketer’s eyes lit up at the description. 

“Oh! Malruk!” she said and immediately handed over two tickets, setting aside one. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? I didn’t know he was headed this way. The ferry leaves in half a bell.” 

Rozha cheerily thanked the woman and paid for the three tickets before grabbing the Elezen by the wrist and pulling him through the gate onto the dock. She released him a few fulms away from the ferry and held out his ticket. 

“Thanks for that,” she said. “I was worried my uncle and I wouldn’t be able to get on the ferry.” 

The man raised an eyebrow as he stared at the ticket. After a moment, he hesitantly took the paper as if it would bite him. 

“Grateful as I am, why would you do that for a stranger? For all you know, I am an outlaw.” 

She shrugged and offered a lopsided smile up at him. 

“Can’t a girl just do something nice?” she asked. “Besides, I’ve seen enough criminals to get the feeling that you aren’t one. A criminal would have had forged documents, to start with, and not have gotten caught up with a ticketer.” 

The man’s lips twisted into a grimace as he glanced over his shoulder at the Lalafellin woman. Rozha tilted her head when he faced her again and tapped a finger on her chin. 

“So, why _don’t_ you have documents? Don’t see many Elezen refugees, so you can’t be one of those. Are you hiding from someone?” 

The stranger’s eyes grew cold at the question. 

“There are questions I could ask _you_, little Keeper,” he said in a voice cold as ice. “For example, does this popular uncle of yours actually exist or did you get lucky with a name and description? Also, did you use me to skip a _line_?” 

Her ears flattened against her skull while her tail shot up in surprise. 

“I… I…” she started hesitantly before recomposing herself. “You know what? Let’s forget those questions. How about this? What’s your name? I’m Rozha, but you can call me ‘Ro’.” 

A moment passed before the man quietly spoke. 

“Phanos.” 

“Strange name for an Elezen, but it’s nice. My uncle _does_ exist, by the way; he’s helping unload the wagon we came in on.” 

She leaned in and peered up at him, trying to get a better look at his face from under the hood. The Elezen took half a step back and scowled at her. 

“What are you doing _now_? Don’t you have a ferry to board?” 

“Aren’t you hot with the robes and hood? Why don’t you lower it?” she asked. “And you have to board, too. You have your ticket.” 

“Do you never tire of asking questions?” he countered. 

She replied with a half-hearted shrug. 

“I’m curious. Uncle complains about the same thing, to be honest.” 

He muttered something under his breath and walked past her onto the ferry. She followed after him with a bounce in her step. 

“So will you lower your hood?” 

“If I do will you leave me be?” 

“Well, you also have to pay me for your ticket. I was only supposed to buy two and Uncle won’t be happy if I spend his gil without asking.” 

The Elezen reached into his robes and pulled out enough gil to repay the Miqo’te. She smiled at him, ears and tail lifting in happiness, and watched him expectantly. He raised a hand and turned away to walk elsewhere on the ferry. Rozha quietly growled and went after him, nearly hopping up onto the railing he had chosen to lean on. 

“Why don’t you find someone else to bother; I’m in no mood to babysit,” the man spat without bothering to face her. 

“Is this really how you show appreciation? You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.” 

“If it’s a bothersome little cat, then yes. As for the latter, I already paid for my ticket. Appreciation shown.” 

“Maybe I was wrong,” she smirked, crossing her arms. “Maybe you are a criminal and I should call for the Brass Blades.” 

The Elezen tensed at the threat. He snapped his head over to glare at her, baring his teeth in a sneer. 

“Are you really threatening me because I won’t remove my hood?” he hissed. 

“Do I have to?” the Miqo’te countered. 

The man let out an exasperated sigh and pushed back his hood with a loud ‘Fine!’. Her ears immediately darted up as she studied his face in the full daylight. 

Her initial thought was correct: his eyes were golden, but paler than those of her uncle. His hair was dark purple and pulled up into a messy bun on the back of his head. Having grown up around Elezen, she was surprised by the man’s relatively short ears, but she managed to keep from mentioning them. 

“Was that so hard?” she asked. 

“Fare well, Keeper,” he said and turned to rest his elbows on the railing. “Thank you for the ticket.” 

She watched the ocean wind tug some strands of his hair free. While she normally would have resisted just to be contrarian, something tugged at her. The teasing smile slowly disappeared from her face as she studied the tall Elezen and her ears relaxed. Confused by the emotion bubbling inside her, the Miqo’te briefly examined the feeling before letting her lips fall into a frown. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry to have bothered you. Have a safe journey, Phanos.” 

The Miqo’te turned and went below decks where some of the other passengers had already found seats. 

Her uncle joined her just as a bell rang to signal they were preparing for departure. The black-haired man sat beside her on the bench with a smile. 

“Thank you for getting the tickets,” he said. “What’s this about me having a retainer?” 

Something spun in her chest and a weight settled in her stomach at the question. Pushing the encroaching nausea and discomfort away, she sidled up against her uncle and rested her head on his arm. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I just helped someone who was having trouble.” 

She felt his gaze on her for a moment before he quietly hummed and wrapped his arm around her. 

Another two bells signaled they were ready to depart. The ferry left the dock as she closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.


	3. Torn Page

The dreams worried him. _He_ wasn't as concerned. Then again, the other one rarely ever was.

_They are **dreams**. No more and no less._

He took another swig from the nearly-empty bottle of wine before replying to the whisper in his mind.

"But she is dreaming of _Ascians_ now, Wyrsa. How is that nothing to be worried about?"

An emotion swept over him causing him to involuntarily roll his eyes.

_Before she was merely dreaming of voices. This is an improvement._

_This_ eyeroll was voluntary. He finished off the bottle and set it on the table.

"I assume you're hungry. The bandits didn't seem to be enough."

_Correct, pet. They barely had a drop between them._

"Don't kill this one. I _like_ coming to Limsa," he murmured.

He relaxed in the chair until he felt like he was about to drift away. His limbs grew heavy while his eyes drifted closed.

His eyes opened and he stretched in his seat, glancing over himself. He tapped the heel of his boot against the floor.

"Why did you wear these, pet? You know I dislike them."

_They're quieter than the others._

He let out an annoyed growl before standing up from the chair.

"Do you have a preference as to which source I pick outside of 'don't kill them'?"

_That's difficult enough for you._

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he slipped out of the inn room.

The woman shivered under his light touch as he traced the ridge of her collarbone before settling his hand on her shoulder. He pushed her against the wall, drawing a surprised gasp from her lips that he covered with a kiss. Her hands came up to grab his long hair and his shoulder, pulling him close in an attempt to keep him from breaking away.

Happy to oblige, he pressed himself into her body, trailing a line of kisses from her lips, to her jaw, and finally ending in the crook of her neck. She stifled a sound and arched herself against him as he heard her heart beat quicken.

A hand slipped around the small of her back and pulled her in while the other cupped the side of her neck. He grinned against her skin before lightly nipping at her neck.

Another stifled noise. He sensed heat radiating off her as her aether stirred. A second nip drew some of it to her neck. A third coupled with a low growl from him made her fully lean into his chest and her hands slipped into his shirt, tracing over his muscles.

He bared his teeth in a grin against the skin of her neck before biting down and stifling her cry with one hand. Blood spilled into his mouth; the aether contained within seeped into his body, sending shivers down his spine.

_Careful._

He growled at the warning and bit down harder, drawing another cry from the woman and more blood from the enlarged wounds. He moaned into her neck, savoring the taste.

_ **Enough.** _

Expressing his annoyance with another growl, he reluctantly released and pressed a hand to the bite on the woman's neck. Aether flowed from his fingers, knitting the wound together. He licked the area around the healed bite clean of whatever blood remained as she relaxed against him, face flush.

She smiled up at him as he smirked in return.

"You should give me more warning next time, Wyrsa. It was hard to get away from my husband."

He roughly kissed her lips, grinning at her as he let out a dark chuckle.

"Makes you taste all the better, little siren. Thank you for your help; I'll send a message next time."

She groped him one final time before leaving the alley they were in. He spent a few minutes straightening his clothes and wiped his mouth before walking out of the darkness.

He nearly ran into the short, blue-skinned Miqo'te. Her silver eyes darted up at his sudden appearance as the fur on her tail stood on end. Even the pale aquamarine of her aether spiked in surprise.

When she recognized him, her tail and aether relaxed and she smiled at him.

"Hello, Uncle! I thought you were drinking alone tonight."

He rested a hand on her head and gently scratched a spot in between her ears. She smiled and stood up on tiptoe to push into it.

"It's me, little one."

Her ears darted up at his words and she dropped down to flat feet.

"Oh! _Other_ Uncle. Is it already time for you to feed? I thought the bandits would have been enough."

He shook his head as they continued walking. He subtly changed their path so they walked in the direction of the inn.

"It wasn't. We used more aether than I took from them," he explained.

She made a small noise of understanding.

"Did you already feed? Were you able to get in touch with your Lominsan source?"

He nodded. They walked in silence back to their room.

Once inside, he turned to the Miqo'te.

"Little one."

She looked at him expectantly, head tilted at his strangely gentle tone.

"He worries for you."

Her head tilted the other way.

"You don't?"

"No, I don't."

She hummed and turned back to the book she was perusing.

"You need to work on your lying, Other Uncle."

He allowed himself a faint smile at the back of her head before crossing to their pack at the foot of their bed. He rummaged through _his_ things before taking out a small tin, tucked away in a hidden pocket. He placed it on the table beside her.

"He uses this tea when the nightmares get to be too much," he explained. "It grants a dreamless sleep. Try a little and see if it helps."

Her silver eyes studied the simple metallic tin before turning up to him with a smile.

"Thank you, Other Uncle. I'll try it tonight."

"See that you do. I won't have him distracted due to worrying over you."

The little Miqo'te nodded and left the room in search of hot water. He sat in a chair and relaxed, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes as he released it. His limbs grew heavy as he felt the switch take place.


	4. Scrap

_[A scrap of paper is on the ground, apparently torn from a larger piece. It contains neat writing, but parts are missing.]_

Another vision; luckily passed it _[…]_  
on board was due to the girl. She came out of _[…]_  
I don’t know why I feel saddened that she left. _[…]_  
vision, however. I can’t help but feel this is not a coinci—_[…]_  
before. Why did she seem so familiar? Have I met her before?


	5. Entry 2

So I’m officially an Arcanist now! It’s a lot different from conjury, but <strike>Tubirgime</strike> <strike>Tobire</strike> <strike>Thubir</strike> the acting guildmaster says I’m rather suited for it. She handed me a book, told me to study the first chapter, and then come back to show her what I learned.

I felt like I was at school! I don’t think I was ever the best student, but I did what she said. At first glance, the formulas looked difficult, but then all of a sudden—and this sounds weird—they made sense. 

I went over it with Uncle last night (because of course Uncle knows about this stuff) and he seemed impressed by how quickly I had grasped it. He passed on some advice from Other Uncle about how to refine the formulas based on my own abilities, but said I was otherwise ready to return to the acting guildmaster.

This morning I did just that. She led me down to a sort of training area and told me to show her what I had learned on a training dummy. She seemed impressed! Then she asked me to turn to the first part of the second chapter and summon the creature there. She walked me through it, but nothing happened. Then, I tried what Other Uncle had said and it worked! A little emerald creature called a carbuncle appeared. It even followed my commands!

She assigned me a few tasks outside of Limsa (like inspecting a box??) to make sure I could hold my own and told me to report back once I had finished. It was late in the afternoon by that point, so I came back to the inn room. I’ll take care of those things tomorrow. I can’t wait to show Uncle what I learned!

\---

Uncle was proud of me! He invited me to eat at this place run by the Culinarian’s Guild as a reward! Delicious!

\---

I keep thinking about <strike>that Elezen</strike> Phanos. I can’t help it. Why didn’t he have any documents? He did react pretty strongly when I accused him of being a criminal. Maybe I was wrong and he actually is? Why did he have to get to Limsa Lominsa? Was he trying to catch a ship somewhere? Why was his accent so weird? I’ve never heard a Wildwood with an accent like that. Why were his ears so short? Usually they’re so much longer! 

I wonder if I’ll run into him again. I don’t know why, but I think I’d like to.


	6. Entry 3

There were  slugs in that box! Ugh! I thought I’d seen the last of them when we left Gridania! Thankfully it seems I passed whatever test that was supposed to be <strike> even if my carbuncle’s attacks went a little wide and angered some wharf rats.</strike>

I met K’lyhia, who introduced herself as an assessor for Maelvaan’s Gate and asked me the strangest questions. But seeing as she’s been assigned to oversee my training, I should probably listen to her and take her questions seriously. She does seem to be really good with numbers, which would make sense considering her chosen profession 

I reported in to Thubyrgeim (I checked how she spells it this time!! I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Sea Wolf names. Give me Hellsguard names  any day!) who praised my work and told me to continue my studies with the tome she gave me.

Since I wanted to wash off that slug slime (I just took the longest bath and I’d  swear  I’m still covered in it) I headed for our room at the Drowning Wench. Uncle was sitting at the bar, talking and laughing with Baderon. The tavernkeeper waved me over to tell me about a farm in Middle La Noscea that was looking for some adventurers to help. Apparently Uncle had a few things to do for the Yellowjackets so he couldn’t go (something about people going missing lately) and both of them thought it’d be a good way for me to see more of La Noscea.

I guess they’re not  wrong. All sorts of accidents can happen on a farm and a healer always comes in handy. Now that I’ve bathed, I’ll grab a bite to eat and head out through Zephyr Gate.

\---

I really didn’t expect to see him again—especially not at a farm run by ex-pirates. (Is  that why he didn’t have any papers? Was he a pirate?) He was tending to one of the trees on the way into the farmstead. He’s ditched the hooded robes he had in Vesper Bay. Now he’s wearing a sleeveless tunic with pants and boots. I  think he noticed me, but he didn’t say anything. Not that I blame him after how I was on the ferry. I’ll try to start over once I’m back from checking out a grotto for Staelwyrn. 

I’m a little concerned since he’s warned me that the kidnappers have been using it, but I can’t spend my life hiding in Uncle’s shadow. I need to do this myself.

\---

So the “check out the grotto” thing is going to have to wait. Thankfully it’s not going anywhere, right? 

One of the workers asked me to help gather ripe oranges when I was on my way out of the gates. Before I could even tell him I had an errand to run for Staelwyrn, he gave me a basket and pushed me in the direction of the orchard with a warning to watch out for any hornets. 

I don’t know why I didn’t throw the basket back at him, but I went down the hill to fill it with oranges. I can’t complain, really. It was nice and quiet in the orchard since the pirates don’t seem to want to work. The hardest part was finding ripe oranges I could reach, but a ladder solved that.

Of course, just my luck, I had half a basketful when a wespe came out of nowhere. Before I could even tell my carbuncle to try and distract it, a knife flew past me and pinned the bug to the orange tree. Killed it instantly. Phanos walked up to pull his knife out of the bug and—of all the nerve—told me I should be more careful.  He’s the one throwing knives around without any warnings! 

Still, since I wanted to apologize for my behavior on the ferry, I asked him if he wanted to start over. He hesitated, but did take my hand just when I was starting to think I had completely ruined everything. We introduced ourselves again, names and all. He even looked a little less grumpy this time.

I went back to picking oranges and—to my surprise—he helped. It was easy for him to grab the oranges from the taller branches and drop them into my basket. Thinking back, I’m not sure I noticed how tall he was when we first met. He’s one of the tallest Elezen I’ve ever seen!

Just when we were finishing up, it started  pouring. We hurried back to the farm and ducked into one of the buildings with the workers and ex-pirates. I returned the basket of oranges to the man who asked for them. Now, I’m just sitting by the fire they made so I can dry off and wait for the rain to stop. 

<strike> I’m not sure where Phanos is since I don’t see him. </strike>

Found him. He’s found an empty corner and is leaning against the wall and ignoring the people around him. He’s not much for company, is he? I’d go over and chat, but I don’t want to ruin this second chance.

  
  



	7. Limsa Lominsa

Rozha cheerfully walked down the hall with her carbuncle in her hands. The creature almost purred happily as she scratched under its chin. It had been a  _ very _ long day of helping at Summerford Farms, and the Keeper wanted nothing more than to relax into a warm bath and fall asleep in a clean bed. She  _ had _ made some progress befriending the Elezen, however, which contributed to the bounce in her step.

Her uncle’s voice roared down the hallway from their room at the end.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ drag the little one into your mess, spoken!” 

Realizing which one was in control, Rozha hurried to the door before anything could happen. A calm, familiar voice stopped her from throwing it open.

“I was wondering when the other you would rear his head. As I told your other half, Wyrsa, the girl collapsed after we defeated the goobbue. Upon recovering, she spoke of a ‘towering crystal’. What else could it mean?”

The voice belonged to the strange Miqo’te Rozha had encountered in the grotto. She wondered what the woman could be doing in their room —and how she knew her uncle.

A low growl showed her other uncle’s displeasure. The woman clicked her tongue.

“Are you a dog now to simply growl at me? Use your words, Wyrsa, or let me speak with Malruk.”

A moment passed before her uncle spoke in a calmer, but still tense, voice.

“For once, I have to agree with him, Y’shtola. There’s no need to recruit the girl at this time, considering this is the first symptom she’s shown of possessing the Echo.”

“Yet it  _ is _ a sign, is it not? If memory serves, that same vision is what prompted you to seek out Thancred in that Garlean camp.”

“And subsequently scare the piss out of the boy,” her uncle added with a low chuckle. Another moment passed and the Highlander sighed. “Wyrsa is making a valid argument; he says the girl barely knows how to fight. Your people cannot, in good conscience, send her against a primal the way you would with us.”

“The girl can defend herself better than you think, Malruk, and I fear we may soon have need of fighters other than yourself who possess the Echo. Surely you’ve sensed the fluctuations in ambient aether, sensitive as you are to it.”

“I can’t say I have. I’ve only recently returned to La Noscea.”

Rozha frowned at her uncle’s tone. Something about it told her he was lying to the woman.

“Strange,” the woman noted. “The others are reporting similar findings in the other city-states. I thought you would have felt it wherever you were before arriving here.”

“Perhaps it is too subtle a change for us,” her other uncle snapped. “Have you only come to speak of aether and attempt to recruit the little one into your blighted organization? If so, you have our answers. We will consider sending word to your  _ people _ should she develop any other talents. Good night.”

Footsteps warned Rozha of the woman’s approach. The Keeper momentarily panicked before ducking into a nearby open room while the door opened and closed. After a minute, the carbuncle hopped out of her arms and peeked outside her hiding place. It squeaked and bounced forward to the room she shared with her uncle.

Rozha hurried after it and swept the summoned creature up in her arms before it could paw at the closed door. She stopped just short of opening the door when her other uncle growled within the room.

“Yes, I know perfectly  _ well _ what is going to happen now. The second we fall asleep, that accursed crystal is going summon us for a talk. Why do you think I’m pouring us wine?”

She heard the telltale pop of a cork followed by liquid filling a glass.

“I despise talking to her,” he growled. “Being in her presence  _ burns _ , but I suppose we have no choice. We cannot let them get their claws into the girl — no matter what that floating rock says or wants. Don’t you agree?”

The man snarled.

“I  _ know _ she isn’t —! That has nothing to do with it, boy! You  _ know _ the problems they’ve sent us to fix. Would you have Rozha face primals alongside us?! Would you have her infiltrate castra?! Face down magitek weapons?! That’s precisely the sort of thing  _ they _ will have her do—and the little one doesn’t have our stubbornness when it comes to staying alive.”

His words troubled Rozha. She frowned at the door as he finally fell silent and wondered just who these people could be that they would rile up her other uncle. Not that it was difficult; of the two, he was more prone to anger.

The Miqo’te shifted the carbuncle in her arms to knock on the door. A curt ‘come in’ from the man inside had her open the door to find him sitting in a chair facing the window, glass of wine in hand. He glanced over his shoulder only to welcome her with a tense smile.

“Little one. I was told you were sent to work on a farm today. How did you find it? Will you return to Gridania and join the Botanist’s Guild?”

She laughed as her carbuncle jumped out of her arms on her way to the seated man. 

“You wish. That way, you could go back to resting in the branches of a tree like a lazy cat.”

“It takes more work than you think, little one, to sleep in a tree and not fall out,” he countered with a smirk. “I’ll step out so you can take a bath. You can tell us how your day went over dinner.”

Rozha watched the man collect the opened bottle from the table before heading towards the door. Her tail fidgeted and her ears twitched as she tried to decide whether to ask the question burning her tongue or bite down on it.

Her curiosity won out in the end.

“Other Uncle?” she called, stopping the man when he had one hand on the door knob. “Who was that woman? I don’t think I’ve seen you use her as a source before. Not only that, but didn’t you just feed? Is there something going on that I should know?”

The man tensed at the questions with his back to her. His jaw slightly moved as he seemed to have a discussion with himself before lifting the glass to his lips and draining it in one go. He turned with a quiet sigh; a strained smile sat on his face that didn’t quite reach his yellow eyes.

“Everything is fine, little one. You’re correct, I did just feed and she is not a source. That woman you saw leave is an old contact of ours. We worked with her people some years back. Nothing to worry yourself with, but we want you to keep away from her for your safety, alright?”

Her lips pursed in a frown. She studied the man and tried to remember her  _ other _ uncle’s tells for when he was lying—he was the better liar, after all. Rozha’s ears flicked downwards against her skull.

“You make her sound dangerous.”

“She is.”

Her dark blue eyebrows drew together in confusion. 

“But she helped me,” Rozha insisted. “A goobbue attacked me in the grotto and she helped me kill it.”

“For all you know she led it there.”

“She did not! A knife was stuck in it. She said it belonged to a pirate—the workers at the farm confirmed it.”

A black eyebrow arched over one of the man’s eyes. He set the bottle and glass by the door before crossing the room to where he had hung his heavy coat and placed his soft, leather boots. The man reached down and drew a knife from inside a boot. He held it up, point pinched between his thumb and curved forefinger.

“I have a pirate’s knife. I took it off one I killed just this afternoon. Anyone can get these in Limsa, little one. All you have to know is who to ask.”

Although the knife did look similar to the one taken from the goobbue’s back, Rozha shook her head as he placed it back in his boot.

“I know I’m right, Other Uncle! I know I can trust her. She was right; I can defend myself better than either of you think! I completed my conjurer studies and—”

He rounded on Rozha with a snarl that put his fangs on full display. They were the sole trait that proved her uncle was more than an ordinary Hyur.

“Were you eavesdropping?” 

Rozha’s ears flattened against the back of her head while the fur on her tail stood on end.

“It’s not  _ nearly _ as underhanded when the entire inn can hear you!” she shouted. “I don’t understand why the two of you have spent the past five years teaching me how to fight if you only let me handle things like helping  _ farmers _ !”

“This woman and her people are  _ different _ ,” he growled. “They’ll expose you to things no one should have to face!”

“Except for  _ you _ ?” she spat.

“Exactly! Malruk and I are in agreement on this,” he added, jabbing a finger in her direction. “You are not to speak to that woman again. Do you understand?”

“I’m not a child, Wyrsa! I helped cleanse the Twelveswood of the corruption caused by one of  _ your _ kind”

“A middling  _ ahriman _ whose eye was too big for its stomach!” he spat.

The look in the man’s eyes changed just before he closed them and took a deep breath. When he reopened them, his expression was stern, but gentler. His left hand, however, was tensed into a claw and shook at his side.

“You’re correct. You’re not a child,” her uncle admitted, crossing his arms in an effort to control his shaking hand. “But we have seen adventurers more experienced than you meet gruesome ends because of  _ them _ . We simply wish to spare you that fate. If we ask you not to even speak with Y’shtola, it’s because we’re worried that she’ll take advantage of your kind nature and willingness to help others.”

Rozha sighed and walked over to her uncle. She gently took his left hand out of where he had tucked it between his arm and chest and stroked it. The Keeper peered up at his face, ears perked forward as she studied the curious look in his eyes.

“I can never remember,” she confessed quietly, “but can Other Uncle hear me?”

Anger flashed through his yellow eyes before he nodded. She smiled and resumed stroking his tensed hand.

“I know it’s probably pointless, but I don’t want either of you to worry. The two of you have taught me how to read people and what to look out for to avoid the more dangerous ones. I have my training, both as a conjurer and now as an arcanist. I know how to protect and heal myself and I know my carbuncle won’t let any harm come to me.”

The rabbit-like creature squeaked in agreement from its place on Rozha’s bed. A faint smile twitched the corner of the man’s mouth as he glanced at it before sighing. His hand slipped out of hers so he could hug the short Keeper.

“Malruk is right,” he conceded. “You are not a child; even pups must one day cut their teeth on a hunt or two. Promise us you will be careful, little one. Do not agree to anything that seems  _ too _ dangerous. You and your carbuncle are young; there are things the two of you have yet to learn.”

Rozha popped up on the tips of her toes and pulled the man down for a peck on the cheek. He gently scratched behind one of her ears until her tail curled upwards.

“If you’re that worried, then why not work with them again?” she asked, eyeing the Highlander. “You said she was a contact, right?”

Her other uncle released her with a smirk to fetch the bottle and glass he had left by the door.

“We just might, little one. At least in the case of anything we deem too dangerous.” He nodded at the other door in the room. “Take your bath; I’ll fetch your dinner.”

She smiled and nodded at her other uncle as he left the room. The second the door closed, the smile fell from her face. Her ears lowered while the tip of her tail twitched in contemplation.

What were her uncles keeping from her?


End file.
